Detective Psycho was an appropriate name for that woman, God bless her insane little heart. She called the bluff of the CDC men who she knew somehow would not shoot her and took out the damned spotlight. As soon as that spotlight was gone and darkness returned to the area, Gavin wasted absolutely no time activating cloaking to ensure that his less connected self would not be shot in the confusion.

It wasn’t complete invisibility, but it was pretty close. A very attentive person could see a faint outline of Gavin’s form, but other than that the active camouflage was close to perfect. Infrared devices would still pick him up, but as long as the shadow wasn’t completely gone from the area he was standing in the desk jockeys pointing firearms at him seconds ago would not be able to see a damned thing.

The detective was talking, but the soldier was not paying much attention at this point. The police officer was not a threat to his life the way the rest of these idiots were, and if necessary he was willing to kill a few or all of them to get his sidearm back. Hopefully it would not come to that, but planning for that possibility made it much easier when and if his hand would be forced.

His metal was lifted down, and the soldier deftly moved around the eggheads surrounding it to pick up and cloak each individual piece of equipment that he put back on his body. His leg holster and sidearm, his shoulder holsters and karambits, and his phone and radio were all stuffed on his person. The extra magazines he just left on the table after replacing his sidearm magazine with a fresh one. The last action he dampened the noise of to make sure the jumpy desk jockeys nearby did not jump at the metallic noise, and with that the man headed off in the direction of the detective and back to their people.

The dampening was in constant effect on his footsteps, because the cloaking did not cover noises and he knew damn well he was being noisier than usual due to balance issues caused by the triple antiviral. On the walk back, Gavin took his own way to carefully avoid the lights that were starting to come back on behind him with the CDC group and any artificial lights in general to conserve energy. Once out of sight of the goddamned eggheads, assisted by some convenient buildings, he decloaked and stopped the noise dampening almost immediately, it was a waste of energy and the last thing he wanted was the Detective shooting at him because she saw a ghost when he got within earshot of her again.

Bare feet smacked against the pavement, and the orange shit had already seeped into almost every crevice of the end of the shitty clothes he was now wearing as well. The first order of business when he regained enough sense to drive, because he was going to have to be the one to drive all of those fucking idiots back, was going to be to get a change of clothes and get as much of this shit as possible off of him. It was a disgusting semisolid that stuck to your body as well as feeling wet and just generally unpleasant.

He needed to call his superiors back at some point, but that could wait. If he recounted what had just happened this soon, he would just get angry and the retelling would trigger a massive homicidal urge he wasn’t quite sure he could contain at the present. If he couldn’t contain it, that would cause a … diplomatic incident and he would be back to where he started before he started this whole fucking mess – on the run with no allies with everyone trying to kill him. ARMA was annoying to deal with, but staying in the same place was the best option for him right now. When Rebekah returned, she was going to come back here expecting him to be there and ready – which he would be.

When Gavin made it back to a place where he could see the previous area, he saw that his men were starting to at least sit up and cradle their carbines. That was a vast improvement over before, but none of them were up and walking around yet. Gavin noted the location of the Detective talking with her own people before grabbing his own M4 carbine, mostly so he would not forget the damn thing when he left, and hobbled over to the police powwow.

”Anytin’ else ah need’a do on yer end right now, or am ah jus’ good to fuck off an’ scrub tis fuckin’ orange shit off?”

Normally he would not give this courtesy, but anyone willing to throw a fucking knife into a searchlight with a dozen or more firearms pointed in their direction deserved respect. Maybe not for their intelligence, but at least professional respect for having guts. And getting him an escape route by knocking out the light, but mostly the guts.

She had started walking even as she made the invitation to join her. Either he did… or he took his chances with CDC. At this point she didn’t care, she had done her good deed for the day and was fighting her own exhaustion, not to mention she had a few more hours of forensics on her crime scene before she had the luxury of going home like the other exhausted blues.

She was vaguely aware of his steps as he caught up and of a booted set… Lance… and from the sound of their cadence he was still walking on very unsteady limbs. He tolerated the antivirals better than the other blues since like her, he had been forced to take them more often. But he still hadn't built up the tolerance she had.

CDC tries to set foot on my crime scene… shoot them…

Despite the strain in the sound, she could hear Lance chuckle. The murmur was half under her breath….

Wasn’t really kidding……

Bare feet stepped over the first pieces of debris as she approached the old maritime building.

NPC:…hey….. HEY…. Rae!

He stumbled to catch up with her, hand snatching her arm as they both nearly lost balance.

NPC:…shit Rae…can't go wandering in a bomb site without any shoes…

She blinked at him before glancing down at her faintly orange feet. He had a point. Sighing she headed for her jeep instead. Pair of sneakers should be in her gym bag. Hip rested against the door of her jeep as she pulled blue and white sneakers over the stained toes, not bothering with any socks.

”Anytin’ else ah need’a do on yer end right now, or am ah jus’ good to fuck off an’ scrub tis fuckin’ orange shit off?”

Hazel lifted to the ARMA soldier, pausing a moment before giving a shake of her head, second heel pulling onto the gunked heel.

No…. get your men taken care of…. be sick few days but if they have half a dick they can be workin' by tomorrow already.

Banging her feet on the ground as though to fix the sneakers on her appendages but more to feel the earth beneath herself and ensure she wasn’t going to keel over.

I have a crime scene still need to finish forensics on..

Head was shaking as she turned away from him, words to herself not to him.

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